San Rafael."

At this Charley cast off, and Yellow Handkerchief sent one of his
men forward to haul in the line. In the gathering darkness I could
just make out the mouth of San Rafael Creek, and by the time we
entered it I could barely see its banks. The Reindeer was fully
five minutes astern, and we continued to leave her astern as we
beat up the narrow, winding channel. With Charley behind us, it
seemed I had little to fear from my five prisoners; but the
darkness prevented my keeping a sharp eye on them, so I transferred
my revolver from my trousers pocket to the side pocket of my coat,
where I could more quickly put my hand on it.

Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared, and that he knew it and
made use of it, subsequent events will show. He was sitting a few
feet away from me, on what then happened to be the weather side of
the junk. I could scarcely see the outlines of his form, but I
soon became convinced that he was slowly, very slowly, edging
closer to me. I watched him carefully. Steering with my left
hand, I slipped my right into my pocket and got hold of the
revolver.

I saw him shift along for a couple of inches, and I was just about
to order him back--the words were trembling on the tip of my
tongue--when I was struck with great force by a heavy figure that
had leaped through the air upon me from the lee side. It was one
of the crew. He pinioned my right arm so that I could not withdraw
my hand from my pocket, and at the same time clapped his other hand
over my mouth. Of course, I could have struggled away from him and
freed my hand or gotten my mouth clear so that I might cry an